


Facing The World

by lalejandra



Category: lotrips
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hangover, Masturbation, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-14
Updated: 2004-06-14
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:11:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: For Kovsky and Linney, in response to their Billy-fic booty call. I've been sitting on this since Friday afternoon, thinking it was going to become a longer story, because something about this just feels like a outline -- but alas, it was not meant to be, so here it is, in its 500 word glory.





	Facing The World

Billy could hear them -- watching the telly, making tea and coffee, laughing. He stared at the ceiling, and rolled over a bit on the bed. There was a lump under his shoulder and no matter how he twisted, it wouldn't smooth out.

He didn't want to sit up. Sitting up meant he was awake and being awake meant he had to go out into the world, had to have brekkie, had to address the headache that might or might not be a hangover. Being awake meant remembering the night before, and Billy had really and truly thought he was over becoming embarrassingly sloshed and having to be dragged home by his mates.

Being awake meant leaving the bedroom and going out into the world, having brekkie, and pretending that he didn't hear Elijah and Dom going at it all night while he was trying to have a good sick-up and fall asleep. Because he'd never heard anyone having sex before? Two blokes, even, who cared?

But there's an etiquette to this sort of thing, and Billy's not looking forward to explaining it, since he's decently sure that Dom and Lij don't know. They would, if they paid attention to the world and weren't such self-centered children. Right, children. Young, small, baby children. Children Billy shouldn't be listening to shag each other, if they were even properly shagging at all.

Sitting up and being awake would mean admitting that he didn't sleep, almost at all, the night before. It would mean admitting he listened to them -- not just that he heard them, but that he was listening. That he was distracted. That his hand kept drifting down, even though he was too drunk to be hard. That when Elijah said, "Shh -- Billy will -- " and Dom said, "Nah, he's asleep -- " and Lij said, "But what if -- " and Dom said, "Maybe he'd -- " and Lij groaned, Billy groaned too.

But Billy swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up slowly, and let his body acclimate to being upright, let his feet get used to holding his legs. Dom would have made proper tea, and perhaps even a porridge, knowing Billy would be waking up when he heard the clatter in the kitchen.

Billy was too bloody fucking old to hold his breath while jerking off so his mates didn't hear him, so instead he turned on the shower, stood under the hot spray, leaned his forehead on the cold ceramic tile. He replayed Dom and Lij in his head, trying to be quiet, as though everyone didn't already know what was happening between them, as though Billy would be scandalized. He was scandalized; scandalized that they thought he would care.

He did care, he does, cared so much he wrang three spurts out of his old, tired, still half-drunk cock, and when he opened his eyes and turned the water cold and took a deep breath, he saw that some time between when he wrapped his fist around his cock and when he finished with a groan and a thump of his head against the wall, someone had come in and left him a cup of tea.

  



End file.
